


Palette and Blood

by Grain_Crain



Series: Reverse requests of Vday romances [2]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 08:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grain_Crain/pseuds/Grain_Crain
Summary: Inspired by the song 'Vincent,' sung by Don McLeanhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oxHnRfhDmrk





	Palette and Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PapaKapkan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapaKapkan/gifts).



_[Starry, starry night. Paint your palette blue and grey-]_

The stereo hums out a comforting melody of the nostalgic tune. Controlling a small acrylic brush on a hard covered notebook is a challenge, but Timur pushes on as he tests his skill and resolve. He spreads red to highlight the innards and torn muscles in remembrance of a travel that happened half a year ago.

_[Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul-]_

The summer hunting trip between Maxim and Timur was an odd mixture of fond slaughter. As part of his side job, Maxim often worked for the farmers from their motherland to catch vermin. Shooting down the rabbits and other rodents proved to be a daunting task, not because of their fast feet but sheer amount of hoards that didn’t seem to end. As they hacked through the carcass of their game, Timur saw a glint of life fading away on those black eyes of the weaker animal. Such moment reminded the sniper the privilege of being the stronger one and the true meaning behind Maxim’s habitual quote of survival of the fittest.

“Only the one with power has the right to live.” Maxim said and gave Timur a weak smile. When his partner leaned in for a kiss, Maxim hurried them to move along and glared at the shadowy figures nearby.

_[And now I understand what you tried to say to me-]_

Their stay at Russia hadn’t been the best. Timur had no shame while Maxim had wary wisdom.  While the younger was keen to share the signs of affection in the subtlest manner, the older didn’t even allow it the slightest. Maxim would often criticise the precious bond they share and spur out in uncontrollable anger that meant no harm. Timur knew there was no hatred behind those words. He understood the frustration of being powerless in a country they call home and the societal limit they faced as the homosexuality was openly persecuted. Those who were outside of conformity became the prey and Maxim’s pride wouldn’t allow being in such position. In this country, their values cannot survive. They didn’t have the right to love and live.

_[How you suffered for your sanity, how you tried to set them free-]_

The guilt deepened along with the wrinkles on Maxim’s scowl. After their fourth argument in a cheap hotel room, one of them threw a punch and it didn’t matter who started to take things physical. Although Timur understood the concern, it almost felt like a paranoia when Maxim wouldn’t even allow a single gentle touch.

“There is no one other than us in here!” Timur yelled as he held his bleeding nose.

“You don’t know that.” Maxim shouted back as the shaking hands hovered over his pale face.

“Then hit me,” the suggestion was absurd but Timur offered out of desperation.

“What? Don’t be mad.” The hunter hastily wiped the blood and sweat off of his hands as if he was afraid.

“If you won’t touch me softly, then do it hard. Because apparently violence more tolerable than love in the ‘bigger’ world.” The taunt meant to bring out some sort of denial, so Timur’s heart shattered when Maxim just sat there without any response.

_[Weathered faces lined in pain-]_

He had no patience with this frustrating bullshit. Timur packed everything that his duffel bag could carry and ignored the anguished plea from his so-called lover.

“Talk to me when we meet back in Hereford or stay in your BELOVED RUSSIA AND ROT TO HELL.” It was his turn to scream. Timur stormed out, shoved the door with a deafening bang and stopped by the elevator to see if Maxim would follow out. He soon realised that he was disappointing himself when no one stopped him from leaving the hotel. Riding a taxi to the airport felt surreal and empty, but after booking a flight back, the numbness lifted off along with the realisation of being deserted. He spent squeezing every bit of sorrow from his eyes and nose in a toilet cubicle while waiting for the aeroplane back to England.

_[For they could not love you, but still your love was true-]_

When he arrived at the base, both of his Spetsnaz comrade didn’t ask of what happened. Alex mentioned that Maxim would arrive back in mid-February after serving different assignment at Beslan. The oldest gave Timur a gentle pat on the back and reassured their Kapkan would come back for sure. Time went by and no one heard anything personal from Maxim. There had been moments of regret. Maxim wasn’t being overly sceptic or paranoid, and all of his actions were out of care and goodness in long haul. Timur might have been childish but that could be the problem of their relationship. Both of them thought they loved each other in their own ways but never really understood each other.

_[And when no hope was left in sight on that starry, starry night-]_

It’s the 14th of February and Timur sneers at his pathetic state of having no one to lean on. He isn’t sure if he can say anything coherent when the other Russian returns, but those times he spent sketching and painting their hunt made Timur crave for his partner. Maybe he could hand over the booklet of gore and don’t mention anything. They could have friendly chat and magically forget the crack in their relationship, or forget the whole romance between them.

“Hey.” The familiar raspy voice tightens the knots in his stomach as Timur rises from the stool. His heart drops to see patches of purple and blue on the other man’s face.

“No.” Timur whispers in distraught and rushes towards Maxim. His fingers tremble as he traces the bruises and abrasions. What a messy water colour on such beautiful canvas.

_[You took your life as lovers often do-]_

“Well, I told my family and friends. Didn’t want to hide anything about us and some of them weren’t so accepting.” Maxim explains the incident of severing his connection with majority of the closest people in his life.

“You shouldn’t have.” Timur holds back the tears and nearly breaks down when Maxim falters in his arms.

_[They would not listen, they're not list'ning still. Perhaps they never will.]_

“It was inevitable. It’s their loss.” They share a quiverish kiss.

“Even if my world won’t understand, I refuse to lose you.”


End file.
